


Love on Borrowed Time

by Smiling_Penelope



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Alternate Universe - TiMER Fusion, Anxiety, Depression, Fake Timer, If they would just talk, M/M, Slow Burn, Soulmate-Identifying Timers, Ticking Timer, blank timer
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-08-15
Updated: 2017-08-15
Packaged: 2018-12-15 15:43:41
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,083
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11809083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Smiling_Penelope/pseuds/Smiling_Penelope
Summary: The Timer is a wrist implant that counts down to the day when the user will meet his or her soulmate. Couples “zero out” at midnight the night before and the next day their Timer will sound when they make eye contact with their one.Victor Nikiforov’s is 27 and his Timer has been blank for 13 years, meaning he either does not have a soulmate or his soulmate has not yet gotten a Timer.Yuuri Katsuki is 23, but he hasn’t gotten a Timer. To ward off the endless questions about it, he bought a fake Timer when he was 16 and set it for a random date which is fast approaching, the day before the Grand Prix Final.





	Love on Borrowed Time

**Author's Note:**

> The Timers are based off of the movie Timer (2009) which I highly recommend watching! It's one of my favorite movies. They took it off of US Netflix and Amazon though (boo). See the end note for more information on them. :)

Celebrating 30 Years of the Timer

Today marks the 30th anniversary of Timers being available to the general public. During that time there has been a marked decline in both divorces and the need for marital counselors. It is estimated that 70% of the world’s population over the age of 14 now have Timers.

As much as it might surprise the younger generation today, there was initially a huge amount of pushback against the Timers. Despite over twenty years of scientific research before they hit the market, many people didn’t think that a “stopwatch” could tell them who their soulmate was. But as more and more stories of happily matched couples popped up the views quickly started shifting.

Now almost every child grows up at knowing what a Timer is. The latest reports are also showing that over half of children are now born to matched parents. There is even a new market in the party supply and greeting card sectors for coming of age/Timer insertion and Zeroing Out celebrations. Due to the increased normalcy of the Timers, it is estimated that in another 30 up to 90% of eligible population will have Timers.

Today we will be reviewing the past 30 years of life with Timers including new interviews with scientific professionals. We are excited to…

Click to Read More

Other Reads:

Oxytocin, The Timer, and YOU!

How to Spot a Fake Timer

Why Timers Are the End of Dating and That’s Not Bad

Self-Fulfilling Prophecy or Destiny?

Rumors of Increased Rate of Cancer in Timered Individuals Debunked

Oldest Man to Get a Timer Finds New Love at 95… With a 25 Year Old?

Push to Decrease Timer Eligibility Age from 14 to 13

Try This One Trick to Speed Up Your Timer

~ ~ ~ ~

Victor stared mournfully at his wrist. It was blank, just like always. It didn’t matter how often he checked it, it never changed. But that didn’t stop the small spark of hope that bloomed every time he woke, only to be crushed by a simple glance at his Timer.

He knew he should just ignore it, live his life like the Timer implanted in his wrist didn’t matter. It wasn’t like he hadn’t tried, he had a drawer full of hideous wrist warmers to prove it. But hiding the truth visually had done nothing to calm the nagging voice in his head. And more often than not, he caught himself pulling aside whatever he had used to cover it anyways.

Some mornings were better than others, but those were rare. Before he had gotten the Timer, Victor had been a morning person. Now his rink mates knew better than to cross his path too early in the day. Even Yuri, the feisty little youngster who seemed to have no fear and give no shits, avoided him until noon.

Victor was 27 and he didn’t think he had a soulmate. He knew that 30 percent of the population over the age of 14 didn’t have Timers, but he also knew that the majority of that percentage was over the age of 70.

And if he had a soulmate, why hadn’t he gotten a Timer as well? Didn’t he want a soulmate? Didn’t he want Victor?

Victor knew that he wanted a soulmate. And he had known that he wanted a Timer for as long as he could remember. He was a true romantic at heart and the moment he came of age he had one installed, even though he had to pay twice as much for the midnight installation on the eve of his 14th birthday.

The few seconds that passed before the Timer flickered on, powered by his body heat, were the longest of his life. It was a crushing blow when it didn’t immediately start counting down, but he quickly pulled himself back together knowing that his soulmate was probably just too young to get his own yet. But as the years started to stretch on it became less and less likely that his soulmate wasn’t getting a Timer due to his age. And at a certain point the potential age difference freaked Victor out and he really hoped that wasn’t the reason. He didn’t want to be dating somebody 13 years younger than him, he wasn’t that desperate.

Victor had seen so many of his friend’s Timers either start counting down or zero out. Now that he was in his late twenties he was starting to get invitations to their blissfully matched weddings. Sometimes he imagined the conversation that must go on between those couples.

“Should we invite Victor?”

“I don’t know. His Timer hasn’t even started to count down. Don’t you think it would be rubbing it in his face?”

“He’s our friend though, he’s happy for us.”

“I guess. But look at it this way, if you didn’t have a soulmate would you wanted to be invited to a big party celebrating two people who do?”

“We can’t just not invite him because he doesn’t have a soulmate.”

“I guess you’re right… do we have to give him a plus one though?”

The only other person he knew around his age that didn’t have a Timer was Georgi, one of his rink mates. It was nice to have somebody to complain to that understood instead of pitying him. Other than that though, they weren’t really close. All they talked about was skating and their Timers, but mostly the later. And that tended to depress Victor more than anything.

Over the years Victor had tried to date. He had dated people without Timers, with blank Timers, or with ticking Timers. Nothing lasted, nothing stuck, and eventually he stopped trying.

It just didn’t feel right. Some people, especially those who were counting down, didn’t date because they felt it was an infidelity to their future partner. Victor didn’t feel that way. He just felt hollow, defective, incapable of romantic love or being loved romantically.

Georgi didn’t seem to have that problem. He was all big emotions and drama. He also only dated women without Timers and whenever it started to get serious he would try to convince them to get one. It never ended well. The woman in question would either break up with him or get a Timer, find out he wasn’t her soulmate, and promptly dump him.

However, Georgi was currently dating a woman who had gotten a Timer for him. Hers had started to count down, his remained blank, but unexpectedly she stayed with him anyways. It was unorthodox and had a literal countdown for disaster, but Victor still wished him luck.

Victor had never tried to convince any of his Timerless partners to get one, but a couple of them had anyways. There was nothing quite like the look of pity they gave him while they tried to hide their excitement over the fact that they had just found out that they had a soulmate somewhere out there.

Once a man he was dating had been so certain that Victor was his one that he got a Timer. When it immediately started to count down he hastily declared that the Timers were bullshit. He told Victor that he was his true soulmate and he didn’t need a clock to tell him so. Victor broke up with him the next day.

Because, despite the rough hand he had been dealt, Victor firmly believed in the Timers. It wasn’t the oodles of scientific research to back them up. It was the way he had seen matched couples looked at each other. Victor wanted that and knew he didn’t have it with his current partner so he broke it off and never looked back.

Of course not all matched soulmates ended happily ever after and many were only ever platonic. He knew that. He had seen the way his coach Yakov and his ex-wife Lilia interacted more than enough to drive home that fact. Yakov and Lilia had been on the verge of divorce when the Timers really started to get popular. They got them to prove that they weren’t soulmates before they finally made the split. However, much to their mutual horror, they zeroed out together the moment their Timers were installed.

They got divorced anyways.

Over the years though, Victor had seen the way they kept coming back together. They fought endlessly and never became romantic (at least not that Victor saw, thankfully) but they still truly cared about each other’s wellbeing. Yakov would yell at Lilia when she missed a meal and Lilia would yell at Yakov when he stayed at the rink over 12 hours straight.

So he knew that soulmates didn’t always end up married and that one didn’t always have to like their soulmate. But he still firmly believed that matched couples were connected to each other by a strong unbreakable bond.

It was a bond he wanted more than anything, even more than the ice.

Victor was a world renowned ice skater, the top of his field, one of the most decorated skaters in history. He loved the ice, he loved skating, making art with his body, endlessly surprising his fans, and constantly breaking his own world records.

But Victor was getting older and the ice had stopped loving him back as much. It was getting harder and harder to improve or to innovate. He knew that he would have to retire as a competitor soon and that fact left him adrift. He wasn’t sure what he would do if he could no longer skate and his timer remained blank.

He didn’t know who he was without the ice and he wasn’t even sure he had a soulmate anymore.

Victor felt like he was on the edge of nothing.

~ ~ ~ ~

When Yuuri turned 14 his parents had offered to buy him a Timer, but Yuuri had politely declined. They didn’t press him on it or ask why. They just let him know that if he ever decided to get one they would be happy to pay for it.

His parents both had timers and were matched. They had gotten them before they got engaged, soon after they had been released to the public. Years later they still liked to tell the story of how their timers when off the moment they were installed. His older sister, Mari, also had a Timer that was set to go off in a few years.

The Timers had seized the world. Even in his small hometown of Hasetsu they were prolific. Because of the increasing average age of their population they had fewer Timers than the Japanese national average, but the younger population was actually above the national statistics for their age range. Even then, when all of his friends and classmates got them, Yuuri still declined.

Everyone, except his parents and his sister, insisted to know why. They asked him questions that he didn’t quite know how to answer and didn’t think he’d want answer to even if he did. He tried to say that he wanted to focus on his skating career and didn’t want any distractions, but with most of the other skaters having Timers, the questions persisted.

And then the International Skating Union wanted to know. It was an optional blank on one of their forms, but it was there nonetheless. The information that Yuuri put on that form would be public knowledge. It could even end up on the internet for anybody and everybody to access.

Yuuri’s breath accelerated, the form swam in front of his eyes. He couldn’t do it, couldn’t put down that he was Timerless. It would be the only thing that interviewers ever asked him.

Somehow in the 30 years that the Timers had been around, one’s Timer status had become a question almost as important as one’s birthday, gender, blood type, or eye color. It didn’t matter if the question was optional, because not answering it would evoke just as many questions, if not more.

That night Yuuri caved and bought one of the fake Timers he had heard so much about off of the internet. When it came in the mail he secreted the box away to his bedroom where it rested on his desk, unopened for almost a week. He still had a few days to turn in the paperwork, but deadline seemed to be accelerating towards him.

Yuuri didn’t know what to do. Should he put on the fake timer, even if was a lie, so that he could avoid the questions that made him panic? Or should he stay honest no matter how much attention it got him?

He was close to throwing both the form and the fake Timer out, but his sister discovered them when she was bringing him tea one day. Mari wasn’t usually the type to dote on her little brother, but she had noticed that he was even more anxious than usual.

She held the fake Timer in her hand. “Are you sure you want to do this, Yuuri? Timers are really serious business and if you get caught there could be a lot of unexpected consequences. I mean, it’s not illegal to lie about it I don’t think, but it’s still a big deal.”

“I just want the questions to stop. They… they just… they make me even more anxious.” Yuuri could hardly look at Mari. He felt like he was doing something wrong just by having bought the thing to begin with. He was fighting off a panic attack as they were having the conversation. He felt dizzy.

“And you still don’t want to talk about why you don’t want an actual Timer?”

Yuuri shook his head ‘no’ fervently as he stared at a spot on the ground.

She sighed and handed over the little piece of metal and plastic and fake destiny. “Okay. You know I’ll support you either way, but you have to tell Mom and Dad first.”

He looked at it, cradled in his hand. It was slightly curved to fit along the inner side of his wrist and the edges of it were blue. For some reason it looked both bigger and smaller than he had expected.

He swallowed and said, “I know.”

Holding Mari’s hand, he told his parents. They had the same hesitant but supportive attitude that his sister had. They even helped him to set up the fake Timer.

Yuuri wasn’t sure when he wanted the thing to go off and he didn’t even think it mattered that much. So he picked a random date at some point in the future when he thought his skating career would be well over. His father entered the numbers, but got them a little mixed up and set the timer three years earlier than intended. Yuuri would be 24 when it went off, but that seemed good enough and the fake Timer wasn’t adjustable so he let it be.

After filling out and sending in the form his family didn’t really speak of it again. The only other person Yuuri told in Hasetsu was Minako Sensei, his ballet instructor. She had an unusually long Timer that wasn’t set to go off for about twenty more years. Minako hadn’t told Yuuri exactly how old she would be by that time and Yuuri knew better than to ask her.

When he was 18 he moved to Detroit to train with a more professional coach. His name was Celestino and he didn’t have a real Timer either. He didn’t wear a fake Timer, but he understood when Yuuri told him about his. Celestino believed that the Timer’s worked, but he liked the idea of leaving his romance more up to fate than ticking piece of plastic. As Yuuri worked his way through the skating ranks, he also helped to deflect the rare question about Yuuri’s countdown date as well.

The last person that Yuuri told was his best friend and rink mate, Phichit, who he met in Detroit. At first he didn’t think he would, Phichit had a normal Timer that was set to go off when he was thirty, so Yuuri wasn’t sure that he’d understand. But when Phichit confided in Yuuri that at first he had been disappointed with his date and the reasons why he appreciated it now, Yuuri knew he could trust him.

“I think that it’s really cool that I’m going to meet my soulmate after I am for sure going to be done competing.” Phichit had confessed. “That gives me plenty of time to just focus on myself and my goals without feeling selfish. I have time, all the time possible for a competitive skater and that is perfect. I don’t have to worry that I’m not giving enough to my partner. Whoever they are, I’m sure that they’d understand, but I’m glad that it’s not something they’ll have to worry about either. We can both focus on setting up our lives and doing what make us happy until we are ready to settle down.”

Of all of the people Yuuri told, Phichit understood the least, but he was still supportive and Yuuri didn’t doubt for a moment that he could keep the secret.

And once he had told Phichit he finally felt like everyone who needed to know about the fake Timer did. A little bit of the weight of his guilt slipped off and he felt almost confident in his decision.

Yuuri never divulged his true secret though, the real reason why he didn’t want a Timer. He had a lot of concerns around the whole thing like worry that he wouldn’t have a soulmate, the deep fear that his soulmate wouldn’t like him, or anxiety that he wouldn’t be enough for his soulmate.

But the truth, the _real_ truth, was that he knew Victor Nikiforov’s Timer hadn’t started to count down.

Victor was the leading figure in ice skating. He held every single Men’s Senior Record in the World and had won enough gold medals to break his neck if he tried to wear them all at once. He was also the one who had gotten Yuuri truly hooked on figure skating to begin with. Yuuri was devoted to him and the beauty of his skating. One of his dreams was to skate on the same ice as him one day.

Victor was Yuuri’s idol, his goal, his dream, and, Yuuri hoped, his soulmate.

So Yuuri was afraid that if he got a Timer it would show that Victor wasn’t his one. If his Timer started to count down and Victor’s didn’t it would be too much for him. He knew it was ridiculous, that there was no way Victor could actually be his. But that didn’t stop him from keeping his head in the sand and pretending that it could be true.

The first thing Yuuri did every morning was to check to see if Victor’s Timer had started counting down. Due to Victor’s domination of the skating world and ridiculously good looks, his fame had landed him a spot on the very popular website CelebrityCountdown.Com, or the CCC, which kept up to date records of the Timer status of the most popular people in the world. He had it bookmarked and despite the fact that it never changed he couldn’t stop small spark of anxiety that bloomed every time he woke before he check it.

Yuuri figured that he would finally get a Timer once Victor’s started to countdown. But he hoped that day never would never come.

It never occurred to Yuuri that if he got a Timer then Victor’s Timer might start to countdown to the same date.

~ ~ ~ ~

_1 year earlier._

Victor had never had more fun at a post competition banquet. He had been contemplating leaving right before the ruckus started and he would forever be thankful that that he hadn’t. Over the years of his undefeated championship the banquets had become more and more routine. He could almost predict what a person was about to say to them before they did.

But that all changed when a younger Japanese man fell, tumbling right into Victor. The man smelled like a distillery and the scent practically assaulted Victor’s nose, but underneath was the softer scent of fresh laundry and grapefruit. It was only Victor’s quick reflexes and the ferocity of the other man’s grip that prevented them both from falling.

Victor steadied them then held the man a bit away from him. It was Yuuri Katsuki, one of the competitors that had skated against him during the Grand Prix Final. Victor couldn’t remember what place he had gotten, but he hadn’t made it to the podium. Which could explain his motivation for becoming so profoundly drunk.

Yuuri looked up at him with bleary brown eyes and it was like Victor was struck down where he stood. He felt his breath whoosh out of him in a short startled rush. The other man was handsome. Gorgeous really, with a soft round face, messy black hair, and the prettiest pair of eyes that Victor had ever seen. They were a deep dark brown with slight hints of a topaz shine to them and Victor felt like he could look into them forever, wanting for nothing else.

He had seen him earlier in the evening dancing with Yuri Plisetsky, but at the time he had been more focused on the fact that Yuri was doing something other than glaring or yelling during a social interaction. And it was something as lighthearted and silly as an impromptu dance competition at that. It was an amusing sight to watch and he had made sure to take pictures from the sidelines while he cheered them on, but he hadn’t been paying very much attention to the Japanese skater.

But now that he was on the receiving end of those gorgeous brown eyes, he found his attention painfully undivided.

“You should dance with me!” Yuuri slurred. At least, that’s what Victor thought he said, he was having a little trouble understanding the other man through his Japanese accent made thicker by champagne.

“I don’t really know if you are up to dancing right now.” Victor said, thinking about how the man had just stumbled into him.

A look of pure determination crossed Yuuri’s face. “I can do it!”

It was too cute and Victor was helpless against his charms.

“Okay,” he chuckled softly and Yuuri’s eyes went large before he closed the distance between them with a tight hug.

“Victor! My family owns a hot spring resort. When the season is over you should come visit.”

Yuuri’s hips pressed up to him and he practically writhed with excitement.

“H-Hey! I got an idea! If I win the dance off, come to Hasetsu and be my coach! You’ll do it won’t you?” Yuuri was looking up at him again with those eyes and Victor was slightly alarmed to find himself wanting to do whatever he asked. But before he could respond, Yuuri was pressing himself close again and slurred, “Be my coach!”

Victor gasped. It was a soft, breathy thing and he found himself blushing as well, completely captivated by the man holding on to him.

And then Yuuri was tugging on him, pulling him towards dancefloor. Victor let himself be led and Yuuri’s left sleeve bunched as he pulled. Victor couldn’t help but notice that he had a ticking Timer. It was just a flash of blue and white plastic and he wasn’t able to tell the time, but it was still clearly counting down.

Victor felt a sudden stab of heartache and jealousy. His strong emotions were completely disproportional to the situation, but he couldn’t help it. Something about Yuuri made Victor want him and want to be his. He hadn’t realized it, but before he saw the man’s Timer he had assumed that he didn’t have one at all.

It was a stupid assumption. Or maybe it was more of a hope. As Yuuri positioned Victor into a dancing position, he wished he hadn’t seen the Timer, that way he could go on pretending that the man standing before him could be his.

They started moving, whirling, practically skating across the dance floor and Victor’s thoughts were pushed from is mind. They dipped and spun, occasionally falling out of time with the music, but it didn’t matter because they were having fun. Their laughter was so hard that they almost fell over a couple of times, but somehow managed to stay upright.

When the song ended they continued for a few more beats before realizing. They clutched to each other tightly and Victor was captivated by Yuuri’s glittering eyes again. The man was slightly shorter than Victor so he had to tilt his face upwards to meet his gaze.

And then Yuuri was tilting his chin up further and Victor was lowering his to meet him.

Yuuri gasped, “There’s a pole!” And was off, out of Victor’s arms as fast as he had fell into them.

Victor stared after him in shock. He had been very close to kissing the man. The very, very drunk man who no one should be kissing because he was so wasted. But, Victor almost had, caught up in a moment that he guiltily wished hadn’t ended.

Yuuri was pole dancing now after practically running into the pole face first. Despite his inebriated state he swung himself around the pole as easily as he had swung Victor around the dancefloor. Apparently Yuuri was a man of many talents.

Victor needed to sit down. His legs were weak and he felt slightly dizzy as the blood rushed out of his head. After making sure to pick a seat with an unobstructed view he collapsed onto it.

Chris Giacometti, the silver medalist, had joined Yuuri on the pole. That wasn’t much of a surprise. Chris was one of Victor closer friends and he knew just how much he loved to pole dance. He had even had a pole installed in his apartment, despite it being against building code. Victor had to help him disguise it a total of three times so that Chris’ landlord wouldn’t find it. The real surprise is that he hadn’t been on the pole before Yuuri.

As they moved around the tall piece of metal, stopping occasionally to hold particularly impressive poses, Victor couldn’t help but notice the way the light glinted off their Timers. He knew Chris’ was set to go off in a little less than six months and wondered what date Yuuri’s was set to.

He knew he shouldn’t think about, should just start moving on now before he worked himself into an even deeper pit of disappointment. But he couldn’t help himself. There was just _something_ about Yuuri that captivated him and and made him want to find out exactly what it was.

Yuuri moved to dismount from the pole and Victor was about to stand up to talk to him again when a large man with even larger wavy brown hair started to pull Yuuri away from the party. It was Celestino, Yuuri’s coach, who had finally realized just how publically wasted his skater was.

Resignedly Victor watched them leave and shortly after he excused himself as well. The first thing he did when he got to his hotel room was to go onto the ISU website and search for Yuuri’s bio. He wasn’t hard to find. It turned out that he had placed last in the competition they had just done and Victor winced a little at just how low his score had been. He also poured over Yuuri’s previous competition scores and could easily see that despite his most recent skating he was actually Japan’s ace skater. He wondered what had gone wrong today.

Victor spent about ten minutes looking over Yuuri’s profile before he finally worked up the courage to look at his Timer status. Feeling like a stalker, no better than a rabid, overbearing fan, he scrolled to the personal section. 173 cm tall, blood type A (why would anybody need to know that? Victor wondered), and finally…

Two years.

It was set to go off in almost exactly two years with a handful of days to spare.

He could work with that. Victor knew that the relationship would be short lived, but maybe it would be worth it. It would have to be long distance and they would probably only be able to see each other at competitions, if Yuuri could place high enough to gain entry that is. They could make the relationship work though, there was always Skype…

Relationship?

What was Victor even thinking? They had spent only part of an evening together that Yuuri might not even remember in the morning.

Victor closed his laptop forcefully and tried to push the other skater from his mind. As he got ready for bed he tried to think about his schedule for the next day. But when he finally found himself tucked into his lonely bed he was only thinking about one thing.

Yuuri.

He didn’t care how desperate or ridiculous he seemed. He was going to ask him for his phone number tomorrow. Because at the very least they could make good friends.

Friends. Just friends, nothing else, nothing more.

The idea sat uncomfortably with Victor but he shook off the feeling and fell asleep.

~

The next day Victor was nervous. He wasn’t really sure how he was going to initiate a conversation with Yuuri that would end in them exchanging phone numbers. If it was anybody else, he would just ask, but this felt to important for a casual approach.

His nervousness only increased as the day wore on. One of them always seemed to be busy or they were across a crowded room from each other. Victor almost gave up hope. He started to lecture Yuri about his junior free skate in the hopes of distracting himself. But then Yuri’s eyes slid to the side and when Victor followed his gaze Yuuri was staring directly at them.

Victor’s heart leaped into his throat. This was his chance, he needed to act now. All of the openings that he had planned flew from his mind. From the romantic ‘I had a lot of fun last night’ with a bonus wink to the professional ‘I really want to talk about your step sequences.’ He had to say something, anything. Afraid of coming off too strong he said the first mundane thing that popped into his head.

“You want to get a photo?” He tried to make his voice as friendly and welcoming as possible while he waived his hand casually. “Sure thing!”

For some reason Yuuri’s face contorted in shock and he looked almost hurt. And then he was turning away from Victor, walking the opposite way as if he hadn’t heard him. Another man even asked Yuuri, “Don’t you want a photo with Victor?” But Yuuri ignored him as well.

Victor realized he was still holding his hand in the air awkwardly and lowered it, feeling stupid. He had no idea what had just happened, but what he did know is that it had _hurt_. He felt like Yuuri had just dropped kicked him in the stomach.

He distantly noticed that his coach, Yakov, was talking to him (really yelling, but the volume was pretty standard for him) and Yuri was rolling his eyes at him. Victor continued to stare after the other skater for an uncomfortable amount of time before returning to the lively shouting match.

~

The next few months Victor tried not to think about Yuuri and for the most part he was successful. It had only been one night of flirting, he told himself, nothing to get worked up about. But every once in a while the other skater would pop into Victor’s mind. What had he done wrong? Was asking him to take a picture together really so bad? Why wouldn’t he just say no instead of ignoring him? Would he ever get to see the other man again?

When that happened, when the questions welcomed themselves into Victor’s mind loudly and without invitation, Victor couldn’t help but check the ISU website for more information on Yuuri. He would rather check Yuuri’s social media, but despite having multiple verified accounts Yuuri never posted on them.

Victor ended up checking the ISU page often enough that it showed up on his internet homepage as a frequently visited site. As the months progressed though the page became less and less active. Yuuri’s performance seemed to continue the downward trend of his last Grand Prix Final and then no more scores were posted. It seemed as if Yuuri had taken a break…

…or quit.

And then a year had passed and Yuuri hadn’t qualified for the next Grand Prix Final. He hadn’t even come close.

Victor really hoped that he hadn’t quit, but all the evidence seemed to point to the contrary. He ended up checking the page less and less frequently. And as that happened he, thankfully, had less and less intrusive thoughts about the man.

He had almost managed to convince himself that the whole thing hadn’t been as big of a deal to him. That his stomach hadn’t done summersaults when he looked into Yuuri’s beautiful eyes or his tongue tripped over itself when Yuuri’s cheeks flushed prettily. 

And then it happened.

Victor had just earned gold in the World Championships. Despite the win he was feeling lower than he ever had before. He was without inspiration and had no idea how to surprise the audience anymore. And without that he wasn’t sure what he had anymore.

Certainly not a soulmate or the promise of one.

It was times like this when the memory Yuuri somehow managed to rear its horrifyingly beautiful head. In his lowest moments he could no longer convince himself that the memories didn’t mean anything anymore.

It was over a year after the night Yuuri had danced with him when Victor was tagged on Twitter by multiple fans who absolutely insisted that he watch a video. It was titled “[Katsuki Yuuri] Tried to Skate Victor's FS Program [Stay Close to Me].”

Victor didn’t think he had ever clicked a link so fast.

~ ~ ~ ~

It’s been too long since Yuuri had been back to Hasetsu, a fact which had originally made Yuuri burn with guilt. But now that he was standing in the station he burned with an embarrassment that was so intense he wanted to crawl back to Detroit.

Yuuri’s face was everywhere. Posters as far as the eye could see lined walls and columns. There were so many that Yuuri was sure it would take a good day to take them all down by himself. As he stood in front of a particularly large one he wanted to do just that. Instead he just ran his hand along his own name and thought about how much of a failure he was.

He had lost big in last year’s Grand Prix Final, but worse than that he had continued to lose. Every single competition he seemed to do worse and worse. Self-destructing before everyone’s eyes, including his own. Yuuri hadn’t even had a pity hope that he would qualify for this year’s Grand Prix Final.

Next year’s prospects weren’t looking very good either. Yuuri had cut it off with his coach in Detroit after he had graduated (an entire year late, no less). And now he was back in his home town and he was directionless, adrift, and unsure.

He picked at the corner of the offensively large poster, testing to see how securely it was glued to the wall. It didn’t lift at all when he picked at it lightly so he tried harder. If he did manage to dislodge it he knew it would cause a scene and probably get him in trouble, but for some reason the idea of seeing his own face stare back at him for one more minute seemed worse.

“Yuuuuuuriiiii!” A familiar voice called behind him and he jumped guiltily away from the poster, trying to pretend that he hadn’t been about to claw it down, piece by piece if he needed to.

“Why are you skulking around?” Minako Sensei asked him suspiciously.

In a panic Yuuri answered her question with one of his own. “What are you doing here?”

She was holding _another_ banner with his name on it. “Welcome back after 5 long years!” She did an artful pirouette despite wearing unyielding boots.

Yuuri asked her again, but the question continued to go ignored.

Always the ballet instructor she said, “Stand up straight, will you?”

Reflexively Yuuri’s back straightened. And then he heard it. The dreaded undercurrent of interest from the Hasetsu natives.

“Isn’t that Yuuri?” “I haven’t heard any news about him lately…” “Remember he lost a big competition last year?”

Yuuri tried to ignore the voices, even the positive ones that asked him for a handshake, but Minako wouldn’t let him. She made him shake hands with anybody who wanted to before they left the station. “You don’t lose anything by shaking hands! Be polite! Victor Nikiforov is always nice to _his_ fans!”

And then she was dragging him along by the wrist, insisting that he greet everyone in town.

“What about your ballet class?” He hedged.

She sighed, “I barely have any students these days, anyways. Hasetsu’s losing more and more people lately. Hardly any kids are skating these days, either.”

A wave of guilt crashed over Yuuri. He knew that Minako wasn’t blaming him, but he felt that the burden was on him anyways. Maybe if he had won at least one competition or been home more often things would be different.

“You should cheer things up around here, Yuuri!”

The guilt increased. Minako had all but confirmed Yuuri’s guilt, even if she hadn’t meant to. He couldn’t do it. He couldn’t face everyone now.

He pulled against her, bringing them to a full stop. She turned around with a puzzled look on her face. And Yuuri couldn’t even look at her when he said it, but he had to. “I-I’m sorry. I’m tired right now…”

Minako’s grip had loosened from his wrist and he took the opportunity to pull away from her.

“Everyone’s been dying to see you though.” Her voice was soft and careful, like she was trying to prevent a spooked horse from bolting.

Yuuri continued to stare at the ground. He had a scuff on the tip of his left shoe. When had that happened?

Minako sighed. Her voice remained soothing, but Yuuri could still sense the exasperation in it. “Okay,” she conceded, “you can visit everyone tomorrow after you’ve gotten more rest.”

Not knowing what to say and feeling embarrassed for causing a scene and being selfish, Yuuri continued to walk forward without a word. Minako fell into step beside him as they made their way to her car. She must have realized that had pushed him too hard and didn’t press him on it again. And for some reason that made Yuuri feel even worse.

~

The welcoming embrace of his family and the hot springs worked to sooth Yuuri’s soul. He had so many trepidations about his decision to come home, but the smile of his parents and sister along with the warm water of the springs worked to worry some of his anxieties away. As he leaned against his favorite rock in the pool he had a rare moment of peace.

His mind fell silent as he gave himself over to the warm press of the water against his skin. There was nothing quite like it in America. Hot baths or even a hot tub couldn’t come close to the pure bliss that was his family’s resort. He had missed it, almost as much as he had missed his family and friends.

All too soon his mind became crowed again. He thought of his dog, Vicchan, who he had paid his respects to soon after coming home. It hadn’t felt like enough though. Vicchan had died right before his disastrous Grand Prix Final and Yuuri hadn’t been there. He was Yuuri’s closest friend and Yuuri hadn’t been there. He hadn’t been there for the last 5 years, the majority of the pup’s life. He fought back tears that sprung up in his eyes.

No. He wasn’t going to cry anymore today. Yuuri rose suddenly, causing startled splashes in the water. He tried to focus on the feeling of the cold air against his exposed skin. Taking deep breaths, he exited the bath and proceeded to put his clothes back on.

Feeling the rumble of his stomach he wandered towards the main dining room. His mom had offered to make his favorite food and he was looking forward to it. When he entered the large room filled with low tables resting on tatami mats his eyes immediately moved to the TV at the end of the room. Minako was facing away from him, watching the World Championships. There were a couple of other patrons in the room who looked bored, but the sign under the TV reading “Do Not Change Channel” seemed to discourage them from complaining.

Drunkenly Minako raised her glass of beer to the television. Some of the amber liquid sloshed out of the glass. “Man, I really wanted to go! If only you’d been in it, Yuuri! You could’ve told me the skaters’ hotel room numbers…”

“I wouldn’t tell you!” he grumbled at her.

She side eyed him from her seat on the floor.

“Is that all you see me as? Your free ticket to stalk hot skaters?”

She looked scandalized and more splashes of beer escaped her glass as she gesticulated. “Hey! That’s only _one_ of the reasons why I support you!”

He opened his mouth to make another retort, but his attention was caught by the television again. Victor was taking up the screen and all of Yuuri’s attention. He was dry practicing his routine before he actually went on the ice. The skater was in first place after the short programs so he was scheduled to skate last that evening.

Yuuri watched the way Victor moved. Fluid, perfect, like he was gliding across the ice despite the fact that he was wearing sneakers on concrete. His movements caused his silver hair to fall into his eyes slightly, but Victor was so focused that it didn’t seem to concern him. Yuuri resisted the impulse to cross the room and touch the TV. As if he could crawl through it, into Victor’s world, just to push his stray hair aside.

Victor extended one hand while he brought the other to rest delicately on his neck. There was a little flash of silver as Victor’s blank Timer peaked out of his long sleeved skating jacket. Yuuri gulped.

For some reason the whole thing felt so private. Maybe it was the way Victor’s spidery fingers ran softly along his neck, or the sorrow that he so perfectly expressed with his eyes and body, or maybe it was just the angle of the camera in the practice area reserved from the public. Yuuri wasn’t sure, but he could feel the heat on his cheeks as he blushed softly. It was as if he had accidentally walked in on a private moment that he was never meant to see.

“Hand it over!” The moment was shattered as Minako grappled with another patron of the hot spring who had tried to change the channel to a soccer match. Yuuri’s father popped his head into the room to enquire about the game as well. It was all too loud and busy for Yuuri who suddenly found himself craving the quiet of the ice.

He excused himself from the room and called his apologies over his shoulder to his mother who was unloading bottles from the car. Yuuri didn’t even have to think as he ran to Ice Castle, his old ice-skating rink. Which was good, because his mind was consumed with anything but his direction. His feet fell into a familiar pattern worn by years of escaping to the ice when his emotions became too big.

When he finally found himself in front of the building a small breath that he hadn’t know he had been holding was released. Ice Castle looked just as he left it. With so many changes to Hasetsu in the time he had been gone he was worried that his old rink would have been affected as well.

He passed through the automatic doors and even the smell was the same. He breathed in the sharp familiar smell of ice deeply before calling “Excuse me!” to get the attention of the woman behind the counter.

“Sorry, we’re closed. You’ll have to come back tomorrow!” Her back was to him as she put away a pair of skates and didn’t turn around.

Yuuri’s breath hitched a little in panic. Would she still let him skate there after all of this time? He knew that he should have tried to call more often. It was obvious that she was mad at him for leaving. Or maybe he had said something during one of their too infrequent calls? Or maybe he called her too frequently?

His mind raced as he tried to figure out what he had done, because he had to have done something. He was always-

The girl finally turned around and her face morphed from slight exasperation to delighted surprise.

Another small sigh of relief. This was Yuuko, one of Yuuri’s best childhood friends. Of course she was happy to see him.

Yuuko had also been a rink mate of his, two years his senior. When they were little she was really good at skating and Yuuri had idolized her. Going so far as to call her ‘the Madonna of Ice Castle Hasetsu.’ She had been the one to introduce Victor to Yuuri and had proceeded to feed into his obsession with his new idol.

Together they would learn and practice Victor’s routines. And she was always showing Yuuri articles and pictures that she had found about Victor. That was how Yuuri had learned about Victor’s blank Timer and about the large brown poodle he owned. He had even been inspired to get a poodle himself, which he then embarrassingly named Vicchan. He hadn’t gotten a Timer, but in its own way that was inspired by the man as well.

Yuuko had a Timer. It had already gone off years ago when she had matched with her now husband, Takeshi Nishigori. She had actually waited a year until he was old enough to get a Timer as well and they got them together. Staring into each other’s eyes, the Timers chimed in unison the moment that they were powered with body heat. It had to have been the most romantic moment of Yuuri’s life and he doubted that anything like it would ever happen to him.

But he was happy that it had happened to Yuuko who was so kind and still so beautiful. At the time he hadn’t been all that ecstatic that she had matched with Takeshi, one of the many boys who used to tease him, but over the years watching them grow together he had become closer with Takeshi as well.

“It’s been a while Yuuko.” Yuuri said as he fidgeted his foot at the ground.

“Yuuri! Stop being a stranger and come here!” She beckoned him over with wide arms and an even wider smile.

Yuuri wasn’t really in a talking mood, but he made sure to catch up with Yuuko anyways. Soon though, as conversations with people so often went, they were talking about his Timer.

“You have less than a year until your Timer goes off don’t you? I’m so excited to meet your match!” She grinned at him.

Yuuri shifted uncomfortably as his fake Timer seemed to grow heavy and weight down his wrist. He glanced in the direction of the rink and Yuuko seemed to follow his gaze.

“Oh! You came to skate, right? And here I am talking your ear off!”

“Huh? I can?” Despite Yuuko’s excitement to see him, Yuuri still hadn’t been sure that she would let him skate.

“Of course!” Then leaning forward conspiratorially, “You want to skate alone for now, right? Don’t worry, I’ll protect you!”

She winked and Yuuri blushed a little as he thanked her.

He took his time warming up on the ice and after that he absentmindedly fell into compulsory figures. They weren’t as fancy or as flashy as the jumps, but Yuuri had always been drawn to them. Drawing figures on the ice seemed like an art form inside of an art form and Yuuri liked the subtlety and precision they required. He especially liked to do them when he had a lot on his mind. The repetitive motions were perfect for calming his anxiety. They were something that he could pour his thoughts into while also getting out the nervous energy that crawled under his skin.

“Yuuri! I’m thinking of locking up soon, okay?” Yuuko called out to him from the other side of the rink.

“Actually-,” he skated over to her, “I wanted you to see something.”

She looked at him curiously but accepted his glasses when he passed them to her for safe-keeping. The lenses were thick and the rims were the same blue as the plastic trim of the fake timer on his wrist. He had some trouble seeing without them, but they would fall off anyways with what he planned to to.

“I’ve been practicing it since competitions ended.” He looked at her nervously. “Please watch.”

She nodded at him seriously and he skated to the center of the ice. He crossed one foot in front of the other as he let his arms and his head hang towards the ground. It was a pose that he had taken often in the past few months.

The music started, played from a small stereo at the edge of the rink. Yuuri lifted his eyes to the celling and raised one arm. Letting them both fall slowly he let the momentum carry him gracefully into the start of the routine.

It was Victor’s free skate program. The one that would undoubtedly be bringing him another gold medal at the World Championships. His 5th consecutive gold to be precise.

But Yuuri hadn’t learned the program because he wanted to win. He had learned it because he had lost and was lost.

In the crushing months after Yuuri’s self-destruction he had no idea what exactly he wanted. In the past it had been so clear. He wanted to skate on the same ice as Victor, but time and time again it he proved to himself that he was unworthy to do so. So if he couldn’t have that, what did he want?

He tried skating all of his old programs, but none of them seemed to fit anymore. Even his compulsory figures failed him. Eventually he took a break from the ice. But then inspiration struck in an all too familiar form when he watched Victor skate that year’s free program for the first time.

It was a program about loss, the feeling of being abandoned. It was the cry of fingers desperately grasping at something slipping between them. Yuuri could tell just from the way Victor moved, sorrow dripping from his body. And when he had looked up the lyrics online he had cried, because they struck too close to home for Yuuri.

He had been tired, so very tired, but there was something he needed to do. His feet knew what before his mind did and he ran along one of his familiar patterns until he found himself in his rink in Detroit. He poured every hope and insecurity he had into learning Victor’s routine, just like he had when he was little.

And slowly, but surely, Yuuri had found what he was looking for all along. His love for skating.

After so many years of torturing himself over routines so that they would be perfect enough to bring him just one step closer to Victor, he went back to learning a routine just because he wanted to. Because it was fun and exciting to emulate his idol and nothing more or less.

Now, skating in front of Yuuko, he worked to let those emotions show through his skating. It wasn’t perfect and most of the jumps were downgraded, but that was okay. Because this was just for Yuuri and no one else, even if he let others see it. Every step and gesture was made of love and passion and loss. The sound of ice scraping filled his ears and in so many ways was even more beautiful than the song itself.

At one point in the routine he staked up to the edge of the rink and framed Yuuko with sweeping arms before skating backwards with them outstretched like he had just blown her a kiss. It was one of his favorite parts of the program and he couldn’t help but smile at her gleeful surprise. He briefly wondered if that was how Victor felt when he surprised his own fans as he launched himself into the last jump leading to the combination spin.

And then it was over. Yuuri was staring again at the ceiling with his arms wrapped over each other. He was panting with the exertion, but the burning of his lungs felt so good.

He heard a soft gasp over the sound of blood whooshing by his ears and turned to look at Yuuko. She slammed her hands on the edge of the rink, startling Yuuri, before yelling “That was AMAZING!” Tears streamed down her face and she continued to hit the edge of the rink. “A perfect copy of Victor! Awesome!”

Well, that hadn’t been exactly what he had intended. He had more wanted to emulate his idol, not copy him exactly, but the compliment sat warmly in his heart anyways.

Calming a little she continued, “I really thought that you’d be depressed or something.”

He gave a soft smile before looking at the ground. “I was,” he said simply, “but I got bored of feeling depressed, so I go to thinking. I wanted to get my love for skating back and I thought the best way to do that was to remember how it felt when I copied Victor with you.” He finished off with another soft smile and a little shrug.

She was looking shell-shocked but he continued on, fighting back the little voice of doubt in his mind. “Yuuko, I’ve been thinking…” He took a steading breath, “I want to return to competitive skating. It will be hard and I’m not sure how I’ll do it alone, but I have to try!”

A wide grin crossed Yuuko’s face, but before she could respond, three small heads popped up over the barrier beside her.

“Ah! You remember Axel, Lutz, and Loop, don’t you?” She asked as if Yuuri could forget her triplets.

The girls goggled at him like three frogs on a log before launching into a series of questions, each more embarrassing or personal than the last. A pair of strong arms circled his neck into a headlock from behind as Takeshi hugged him violently. The larger man initiated a round of teasing as he pulled up Yuuri’s shirt and patted his stomach. The triplets had gotten onto the ice and were skating circles around them like a group of sharks.

It wasn’t Yuuri’s favorite thing to be teased like that, but it was lighthearted and felt like family. He squirmed with embarrassment, but was able to laugh off their comments in the end. When Takeshi released him his face became serious.

“I didn’t mean to eavesdrop, but did you mean what you meant earlier?”

Yuuri didn’t have the courage to repeat it, so he just nodded.

“You can come any time to practice then. The Nishigori family always has your back.” Takeshi said has he rubbed two of the girl’s heads fondly.

Yuuri fought back the tears that threatened to spill down his face. He had ignored so many things to focus on skating and somewhere along the line he had forgotten just how good it felt to be an honorary member of the Nishigori family.

Yuuri was starting to realize that when he was in Hasetsu, he would never really be doing it alone.

~

The next few days Yuuri started to train again in earnest. He worked to replicate his old work out routines, but he couldn’t quite match his previous intensity. He found himself loosing track of the number of repetitions he did or excusing himself when he felt short of his goals. It wasn’t enough, he couldn’t be so easy on himself. But at the same time he worried about injuring himself. It was so much harder without the outside opinion of a coach.

One night he found himself particularly exhausted after a long day of training. It didn’t help that at dinner he had watched news program about Victor and his rink mate Yuri Plisetsky that had made him feel completely inadequate. He was sitting beside his bed, almost comatose with fatigue when he got a text message from Takeshi.

It was a link to a video.

A video titled “[Katsuki Yuuri] Tried to Skate Victor's FS Program [Stay Close to Me].” It had an unthinkable amount of views.

Yuuri emitted a horrified shriek of anguish that he didn’t know that he could even make.

Takeshi called him and not knowing what else to do, Yuuri picked up. He could tell that he was apologizing fervently for his children posting the video, which had gone viral, and could even faintly hear Yuuko shouting at the girls in the background, but Yuuri wasn’t able to process it fully.

“Just delete it,” was all he could say before he hung up. At least that’s what he thought he said, it was hard to tell what his body was doing anymore. He felt himself sliding to the ground, assuming the fetal position.

There was the crashing sound as his bedroom door slid open forcefully.

“What’s with that video?! It’s being retweeted everywhere! You became internet famous before consulting me?!” It seemed like Minako had found her way into his room to yell at him.

Yuuri continued to lay on the ground.

He had poured everything into that skate, clearing showing not just his love and devotion for skating, but for Victor as well. Fans were going to call him a copy or a thief, a bad one at that.

Yuuri hoped that Victor never saw it.

But at the same time a small part of him, a hopeful part, wished he would. Because wasn’t that part of what he had always dreamed of?

~ ~ ~ ~

“Dumb luck” Yakov would often shake his head at Victor. “Emphasis on the dumb, because it’s definitely not your smarts keeping you alive at this point.” It was the expression his coach used whenever Victor did anything particularly rash or idiotic. He heard it when he was on the ice, or when he drove, or when he called for Yakov’s help at midnight when he became particularly drunk.

“Why do you take such risks, Vitya?” was another common phrase that passed Yakov’s lips. Victor would reply with some sort of glib remark, but he knew that his coach saw through him. Truthfully he wasn’t sure himself what the compulsion was that urged him to drive faster, train harder, or dink more. All he knew was that it was the same compulsion that caused him to let his plants die or the dishes pile up in the sink. It was the feeling he had on particularly hard mornings where he wondered what exactly was the point.

Sometimes Victor liked to stare out at the cold Baltic sea. He would imagine what it would feel like to slip under its inky dark surface and stay there forever. He wondered how long it would take for the ripples to subside before the water forgot he was ever there.

How long would it take for his body to become too cold to power his Timer?

Victor shook his head to clear his mind. It wasn’t like he would ever act on that fantasy. The urge had never become strong enough to even think of taking action. But it was still there, the impulse to enter the sea and never look back. And he couldn’t deny that just its presence concerned him.

His large poodle, Makkachin, gave a tired huff next to him as she shifted her head onto his lap. Victor was staring at a very different body of water now. It was the Pacific Ocean which seemed to glow in the sunset. Somehow it looked so much more alive than the water of the Baltic Sea.

Trees obscured his view and he looked forward at his taxi driver. He was a middle aged Japanese man who didn’t speak a word of English, let alone Russian. But Victor had been able to communicate where he wanted to go by pulling a map up on his phone.

“Katsuki?” He asked Victor tentatively and he responded with a vigorous nod.

Yuuri’s home town was beautiful, even out of the small window of the taxi. There was a mix of traditional and more modern Japanese architecture throughout the town, but it was all overshadowed by a large traditional looking structure. Victor wondered what it was. Maybe a temple or some sort of castle.

The taxi rolled to a stop and the driver said something to Victor in Japanese. He handed over what he hopped was enough Yen and was surprised when the driver returned a good third of it. Victor tried to say thank you in Japanese, but he must have butchered it because the driver gave a little chuckle before speeding off.

Clutching his suitcase and Makkachin’s leash Victor took in his surroundings. A large elegant gate stood in front of him decorated in a variety of banners all in Japanese.

Suddenly Victor had no idea what he was doing. He should be back in St. Peter’s Burg mapping out his new routines for the season. Instead he was gearing himself up to offer to be another skater’s coach. A skater who had ignored him the last time they talked.

A cherry blossom fluttered to the ground in front of him.

No. He knew exactly what he was doing. He had seen Yuuri skate his free program and had been more inspired than he had in years. Something about the way Yuuri moved called to him. There was just so much potential there and Victor knew he could be the one to draw it out.

He tried not to think about what he could potentially giving up to do so. But stronger than that doubt in him was an overwhelming feeling of surety and hope. Victor couldn’t quite explain it to himself and had failed completely to explain it to Yakov, but it was still there.

Makkachin whined next to him and he gave her a reassuring pat to tide her over until he was ready to move forward.

He had hours of time to think and consider on the plane, but now that his target was seconds away he felt like he had so much more to consider before he took his next step.

Yuuri had a Timer. One that was counting down. It was ludicrous to try and start a relationship with him less than a year before his Timer was set to go off.

But he wasn’t here to be romantic with Yuuri, he tried to tell himself. He was going to coach him. Just a coach, nothing more.

But if feelings developed…

No.

He couldn’t let himself think like that. It was unprofessional and that was the last thing Victor wanted to be. The decision to coach Yuuri might have been a sudden one, but that didn’t make Victor any less serious about it. He was going to give his all. He was-

Victor’s thoughts were interrupted as Makkachin surged forward at a motion down the path. Victor was pulled along by his mammoth of a dog and quickly found himself in front of a kind looking Japanese woman who was scratching Makkachin expertly behind the ear. She was round and short and perfectly adorable. He assumed that this was Yuuri’s mother.

He tried to greet her in stilted Japanese.

“English?” She responded slowly and carefully. When Victor nodded she held up a finger and called something over her shoulder. A dour looking young woman came barreling out of the resort. Her English was much better and soon Victor found himself on a quick tour before he was led to a quaint little room.

“-and feel free to take a bath in your room or the hot springs. If you want to use the hot springs you might want to go soon as we close them at night.” The young woman (Mari, Victor had learned) finished. She paused for the moment to let Victor ask any questions. He smiled and let her know that he had everything that he needed. She gave him another long look before turning around and leaving the room.

After looking around the room and unloading his suitcase Victor decided to go for a bath. He patted Makkachin on the head and told her to be a good girl and not cause any trouble, before he left the room. Victor grinned as he made his way to the springs. He always loved trying new things.

~ ~ ~ ~

Yuuri wiped the steam from his glasses, making sure that he was actually seeing what he thought he was seeing. His idol, his very-absolutely-incredibly naked idol, was standing before him with one arm outstretched. His hair was damp and his cheeks (on both ends) were flushed from the steam.

“Yuuri! Starting today, I’m your new coach!”

Yuuri stood with his mouth hanging open and Victor continued.

“You’re going to compete in the Grand Prix Final and you’re going to win!”

He winked.

_Winked._

Victor, standing in front of him, naked, said he was going to be his coach… then winked.

“Huuuuuh?” Yuuri yelled eloquently. He was pretty sure that his panic and disbelief could be heard from space.

**Author's Note:**

> Hey everyone! I hope that you liked my first YOI fan fiction! Right now I'm planning on making this 12 chapters long to sort of follow along with the season 1 episodes. I might alter this as I go depending on pacing and whatnot! :) You will recognize some cannon conversation and lines from both the sub and the dub version if they fit into the storyline.
> 
> Also with the timeline of the banquet... yikes, just yikes. I have poured over the banquet scenes from episode 10 countless times and I'm still not sure of the exact order of events. So I basically decided to just organize it to fit my story the best! ¯\\_(ツ)_/¯
> 
> More Timer information:  
> Timers are insertable devices that attach to the non dominate wrist on the inside.  
> How a soulmate is determined is based off of a combination of science and algorithms. A questionnaire is also filled out before insertion to help with matching. But really there is no comprehensive information beyond a scientist saying the word 'oxytocin' in the movie lol.  
> Timers identify soulmates, but this does not mean the matched pair will be romantic or even like each other.  
> Timers are removable, but the process is irreversible and painful. (Insertion is also mildly painful like a piercing or tattoo.)  
> The shape, style, and size of the Timers have changed over time, similar to the way cellphones have changed.
> 
> Anyways! If you have any questions about Timers, please feel free to ask. Comments and kudos are also appreciated in general! :)


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